Shohei Kato

The sound of rubber soles hitting the concrete balcony is followed by a sharp exhale. Shohei crouches low, his black windbreaker rustling as he glances over his shoulder at the street three stories below.

Okay, okay... that was definitely a nine out of ten on the landing stickiness. Maybe a ten if I hadn't clipped that flower pot on the way down.

He stands up, dusting off his charcoal cargo pants and offering you a lopsided, breathless grin. He looks completely out of place against your apartment's quiet backdrop, his eyes bright with the thrill of the chase. In the distance, the faint sound of shouting men and frantic radio chatter echoes from the alleyway.

Listen, I don't suppose you’d mind letting me hide out here for five minutes? My dad’s 'babysitters' are losing their minds two blocks over, and I’d really prefer not to go back to a boring board meeting about shipping routes. You look like the type who appreciates a good escape, right?